Fight or Flight
by ChaosAngel4us
Summary: They were coming. That was all she could think about as the sun sunk in the sky. Her head was tearing itself apart as she stood in the middle of the road. As her head throbbed, she noticed two messages carved into her hand: Canteen and Something Worth Fighting For. Taking a long drink of her canteen, the 19-year-old's head cleared enough for her to remember to protect her brothers.


They were coming.

That was all she could think about as the sun sunk lower in the sky. Her head was throbbing, tearing itself apart as she stood in the middle of the road. There were footsteps behind her running in the opposite direction. She spun around to see three children, three boys, and they _smelled so good_—

She glanced at her hand to see a word scrawled across the back of it.

_Canteen_.

At her hip rested the silver canteen. What was it doing there? Her head _hurt so bad_ and she was hungry. She was so hungry. Something smelled really good behind her; if she ran she could catch it and she could eat it and she could—

Her hand was itching and she looked down to scratch it.

_Canteen._

The word was scrawled hurriedly and seemed to force her into compliance. She took out the canteen and downed the liquid inside. It burned down her throat, filling her with satisfaction and causing the headache to diminish to a dull throb, barely noticeable. The three figures running away were not food; they were her brothers. They were running for cover from the monsters coming toward them.

She swung her head around in time to see the creatures had gotten closer; there were four mothers and three fathers. Most were old and limping, but one mother, the one that looked to be their leader, looked much younger and less diseased.

And most of all, they looked hungry.

Her name, what was her name…

Her name was something that started with an H. Or maybe an M. No, it was definitely an H. She was young, in college, almost 19. She had three younger brothers, all too young to get sick, and she was protecting them.

Her hand still shot pinpricks of sharp irritation and she looked down, this time rolling it over to look at her palm. In the same messy handwriting that wrote on the back of her hand, it spelled out _Something Worth Fighting For_. Something, something like her brothers running now. A vicious roar spilled from her lips as she squared her shoulders and spread her legs to prepare for the oncoming mothers and fathers. There was something pressing hard against her back and she reached around to pull out a baseball bat with thick nails poking out of it.

A grin pulled the corners of her mouth back, splitting her dry lips in the process. She shifted the weight of the bat in her hands before rearing back and striking the first advancing mother that reached her. It squealed in pain before falling to the ground, thick blood oozing from the wound where the nails found their mark. The other mothers and fathers stopped to look at the teenager brandishing the bat. She screamed at them and then charged, scattering them in the other direction. None of them had weapons and their leader was down on the ground bleeding from a head wound. The teenager circled back to bash the downed mother until she stopped twitching.

Once satisfied with her work, the teenager returned the bat to her back and made her way in the direction where the boys had ran. Her throat was feeling dry again, so she pulled out the canteen to take another drink. The madness ebbed even further until she could think properly.

Her name was Haley. She was protecting her younger siblings. They would have found an attic to hide in and left a red cloth on the handle of the front door. It was her job to clear the area of any immediate danger before going into the house, locking the front door behind her, and then making sure the boys were in a place the mothers and fathers couldn't reach. If there was no attic, they would move on to the next house if they were able.

She was their protector. They were coming from Atlanta and heading to Washington DC. There was a safe house there. One that was well fortified by the other survivors. Most survivors were making there way to the capital building because it was the safest place in America at the moment. She had to get the boys there. Once the boys were safe, she could let the madness take her. Until then, she had to hold on.

She found the house rather easily. The red scarf was like a beacon in the darkening light. She stuffed the fabric in her pocket and shuffled inside, locking the door behind her. She held her breath as she listened; there was absolute silence.

She made her way to the second floor and looked for the dangling piece of rope that showed where the attic was. Once she found it, she pulled out her knife and severed it: a precaution to make sure no other monsters could reach the boys. They were safe up there.

Now she would find food for them. Surely there was something in the relatively unhurt house.

Up in the attic, three boys were huddled in the corner furthest from the attic entrance. They listened as someone tugged on the string at the entrance, the oldest of about 16 pulled out his machete to prepare for the worst. A familiar grunt was the only sound from below and he breathed a sigh of relief. It was just their sister making sure they were safe up there.

"It's alright, boys. It's just Haley." He whispered. The other two boys nodded, one about 13 and the other about 9.

"Do you think she'll be okay down there by herself?" the nine-year-old asked. The oldest shrugged.

"The mothers and fathers don't tend to attack her because she's sick." He answered. "Okay, Kyle, I need you to light a candle so we can sterilize a knife."

The 13-year-old, Kyle, nodded before pulling a candle out of his backpack and lighting it with a zippo. The oldest boy lifted his knife from his best and held it in the flame until the blade began to glow red. He took a deep breath to prepare himself while Kyle pulled out another knife to begin heating up.

"Daniel, do you have the spare canteen?" he asked the youngest of the three. Daniel nodded and unsnapped the canteen from his bag. He unscrewed the lid and held it out for his oldest brother.

"Do you need me to hold it for you?" he asked. The oldest nodded. Daniel held the open canteen and watched as the oldest slit his wrist and allowed himself to bleed into the canteen.

"I think that's enough." Kyle said after a while, digging antiseptic and bandages out of his bag. "Mark, I think that's enough." He said again, a little more firmly.

Mark, the oldest took the antiseptic and lined the fresh cut with it before taking the other knife from Kyle and sealing the wound. He gritted his teeth against the pain, knowing the necessity of closing the wound. He then wrapped the bandages around his wrist.

"I don't want to make you guys have to give too much blood. I know it's uncomfortable." Mark said. The younger brothers grimaced at the thought of having to add their own blood to the canteen.

"It's the only way." Daniel said. The other boys nodded their agreement. Mark prepared the knife again for the next brother to take his turn.

When morning hit, the teenager down below in the house woke groggy and hungry. The sunlight drifting through the uncovered window caused her head to throb even worse. She moaned in pain before staggering to her feet. Her hand stung and she looked down to see the same two messages on it: _Canteen_ and _Something Worth Fighting For_. Her mind cleared enough for her to take a long drink from the canteen at her hip, emptying the contents. She then went to look out every window, checking for hostiles.

Once the coast was confirmed to be clear, she went to the attic entrance and pounded on it three times in succession with her bat. She took several steps back and watched as the attic stairs unfurled and three heads appeared from the opening.

"Did you drink your canteen?" Mark asked hesitantly. Haley grunted her reply. Mark reached around to grab the second canteen from Daniel. He gave his big sister a small smile. "Trade ya?"

Haley pulled her own canteen off of her hip and reached up to swap the empty one with the fresh, full one. She wetted her lips with her swollen tongue in order to attempt speech.

"Food?" she managed to ask. The boys shook their head.

"We haven't eaten yet. We're running low on food." Mark said. Haley motioned for the boys to follow her. "Wait, is it safe? Did you check?"

Haley nodded and tried to smile at them reassuringly. Daniel thought it looked more like a grimace. He followed his older brothers out of the attic, his knife gripped tightly in his hands. Haley led them into the kitchen on the first floor where she had managed to gather a small supply of cans. Daniel grabbed a can of peaches while Mark and Kyle went halfsies with a tomato soup and a chicken broth. The rest of the cans were placed neatly in Mark's backpack. He shifted from foot to foot in order to get used to the added weight. He looked at his sister.

She wasn't as horribly diseased as most of the affected were. She had fought to stay in control when the disease initially hit. She lasted longer than anyone, fighting off attacking mothers and fathers to keep him and his younger brothers safe. At first, they thought she wouldn't get sick; maybe she was immune like everyone else under sixteen was.

But that wasn't the case. She started to get the boils behind her ears and the whites of her eyes turned yellow and sores began to appear all over her body. She didn't lose any of her hair, though, something Mark knew she was grateful for. She loved her hair. She never attacked them, though. She would mumble things and hiss, but she kept herself locked away from them.

It was Daniel who figured out what to do. He had pressed his ear to the locked door and heard her muttering about needing blood. Saying it would help. He had bravely opened the door, stabbed himself in the shoulder, and allowed himself to bleed all over the floor. His older sister had collapsed on the blood, lapping at it like a crazed animal. He had never been afraid of her until that moment: the moment where she looked up at him, her eyes wild, and hissed "_more_". Daniel had complied until he started to feel weak from blood loss. His brothers had been out scavenging in the hot sun, the time where most of the diseased creatures preferred darkness, and when they came back, they found Haley tending to a bandaged Daniel.

She was better. Not cured, but the madness that came with the sickness was held at bay. She told the boys it was their clean blood that she needed. It helped clear the sickness out of her system and make her better for a while.

So they began to fill a canteen with their blood so she could always have it with her. Mark carved two messages into her hand at her behest to act as a constant reminder for her to drink from the canteen and to protect her brothers.

And then they had moved out. They would occasionally run into hunters who mentioned how a large exodus of survivors were making their way to the country's capital. The White House was well fortified and they were taking as many people in as they could. It was the break Haley had been hoping for. She didn't know how long she could last keeping the madness away with the help of her brother's blood. If she could get them to DC, she would know they were safe and could let herself die in peace.

So that was where they were going: Washington DC. It was a long and dangerous trek, but the four siblings protected each other as they went. Haley was getting worse everyday to the point where she could no longer speak, but she was strong enough to keep herself from hurting her boys. She was strong enough to protect them even from herself.

That was why she made them sleep in the attic where even she couldn't reach them. Just in case.

The sun was bright when the four walked outside. Haley moaned in protest and pulled her long cloak tighter over her face. The sun made everything worse. Mark placed a soothing hand on her back and led the way.

"Take a drink from your canteen." He told her gently. "It will help with the pain."

Haley obeyed and felt her throbbing headache begin to fade. Keeping the cloak over her face helped as well. The sun was painful to the diseased, Haley included.

The group only moved during the day when the sun was highest because it was the safest then. Even though every step was painful beyond belief for their sister, she was the one who insisted every time that they go anyway. They were less likely to be attacked during midday than dusk or nighttime.

They had managed to pick up an assortment of weapons, Mark having a golf club as well as a machete in his possession. Kyle had picked up a crow bar, a pistol, and an old samurai sword that had been their father's. Little Daniel had a knife and a tire iron. Haley had her nail bat strapped to her back and a knife tucked in at her waist.

It was slow moving, but it was safest during the day. That didn't mean they weren't still in danger. Haley peered out from beneath her hood and sniffed. The familiar scent of decay and death was in the air and she turned to see a pack of mothers and fathers behind them gaining ground steadily. Her younger brothers gave each other panicked looks. They'd never run into a group of creatures that large before. Haley gritted her teeth and forced a word out of her swollen throat.

"_Run_."

Kyle and Daniel didn't need to be told twice and took off down the road, but Mark hesitated for a moment.

"Are you sure?" he asked. Haley nodded curtly and waved him away, pulling her nail bat from its spot on her back. Mark gave her a final worried look before running after his younger brothers. They would need his help if there were any more of those monsters. Behind him, Haley cracked her neck before getting into a fighter's stance, preparing herself for the oncoming horde.

She would be sure her brothers survived. No matter what.


End file.
